


Figure Sketching

by Kateli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Art School, M/M, One-Sided Otabek Altin/Katsuki Yuuri, Secret Admirer, nosy!Viktor, wingman!Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateli/pseuds/Kateli
Summary: Art student Otabek anonymously passes along a sketch of a stranger in a coffee shop. He has no idea what he's gotten himself into.





	Figure Sketching

**Author's Note:**

> For [girlwithribbon](girlwithribbon.tumblr.com), my dear friend, for the YOI 25+ discord server fic exchange <3
> 
> Original prompt: OtaFairy – what is a date? is this a date? what are we?

Otabek sighed, gazing out across the crowded cafe from his secluded corner table. It was the end of August, which meant the rest of the student population had returned from summer vacation. Otabek missed the peace and quiet, although more people passing through meant he’d have more practice drawing the customers around him. His advisor had lauded his landscape painting at the end of the semester, but suggested he improve his figure drawing as he prepared for the class he’d be taking his sophomore year.

Otabek’s friend JJ was working the register all summer, and Otabek came by frequently. He’d become a definitive regular, however, after developing something of a crush on the new barista. Otabek was attracted to his quiet sensibility, something they had in common. Otabek would sit at the counter to sketch his hands working the machines. Once JJ caught on, however, he’d warned Otabek off—Yuuri Katsuki was already dating someone.

“I know you don’t pay attention to gossip, but c’mon, how did you not know about Yuuri and Viktor? Isn’t he a big shot in your department?”

Viktor, a senior photography major in Otabek’s department, had already established an embryonic career as a sports photographer. He’d even been to the Olympics on an internship.

Otabek heeded JJ’s warning and didn’t flirt with Yuuri (honestly, Otabek was shy, so he probably wouldn’t have pursued Yuuri anyway), but that didn’t mean he couldn’t admire him from afar. Between watching Yuuri concentrate while he made cappuccino foam, and JJ sneaking him free pastries toward the end of his shift, Otabek had no desire for a change of scenery.

The biggest change happened this morning, when it’d been more crowded than normal, and Otabek’s usual table near the counter was occupied. That’s when he’d set himself up in a cozy corner, as far from the busy line of customers as possible.

He was working on a sketch of the woman seated a couple of tables over. She was perched on her chair with one leg under her bottom and the other bent so her knee was propped under her chin. One arm was threaded through the triangular space made by her bent leg, typing on her laptop, while the other held her iced coffee so she could sip through the straw. Otabek wasn’t sure how she could possibly be comfortable like that, but he enjoyed the challenge of sketching the knot of her limbs.

Otabek was startled from his work when a bright laugh carried across the white noise of the shop. Looking up, he traced the sound to Yuuri. He rarely heard Yuuri laugh so loudly, given how reserved he was. Otabek felt something like jealousy surge through his chest as his eyes landed on the culprit behind Yuuri’s mirth.

A tall, lithe man leaned across the counter, his long, blonde hair cascading over his shoulder, blocking his face from Otabek’s view. Yuuri usually avoided talking to customers, preferring to give JJ the lead on taking orders. Yet here he was, happily chatting with this stranger who Otabek had never seen in the cafe before.

His long legs were crossed at the ankle, his weight leaning on his left hip so that his back was turned in Otabek’s direction. His ripped black jeans hugged his slim thighs and round behind. Otabek considered his own flat ass, wondering what kind of body type Yuuri was attracted to. 

Oh, right; tall, pale, and lean. Viktor Nikiforov. This new guy didn’t have a chance, if JJ’s account of Yuuri’s attachment to his boyfriend was accurate.

The stranger wore a loose leopard print tank top with gaping arm holes, showcasing the pale expanse of his torso, down to his waist. Otabek frowned, his hand inching toward his pencil.

The blonde shifted on his feet slightly and tossed his hair over his shoulder. Otabek studied his profile for a moment, and wondered if he’d ever seen a more angelic face. He shifted his gaze quickly to Yuuri, whose kind smile was contagious. But this new customer’s smile was beguiling. It was more of a smirk, and Otabek wondered if the two beautiful men were conspiring to take over the world with their attractiveness…

He flipped a page in his notebook and quickly began to sketch. Luckily, when Yuuri handed the other man his drink, the blonde stayed put, pulling up a stool and taking out his phone, scrolling endlessly.

By the time the man left, Otabek had a rough sketch that looked vaguely promising. He spent the rest of the afternoon perfecting it, eraser debris scattered around him. He usually kept his sketches brief and focused on improving some skill or another, but he felt inspired to complete this one.

At closing time, JJ came over to Otabek with a free croissant.

“Hey, could you do me a favor?” Otabek asked, on a whim. He took a quick picture of the drawing for his own reference, and then carefully ripped it out of his sketchbook. “If you see that guy in here again, could you give this to him?”

JJ took the paper and studied it for a moment, eyebrows raising and a grin spreading across his face.

“Oh my god, JJ, don’t even say it,” Otabek said, feeling his face heat up. “And don’t tell him it was me! It’s too embarrassing. Please?”

“Okay, Beks,” JJ said, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “I don’t know why you’re so shy about it, though. It’s not like he’s going to automatically assume you have the hots for him. You’re an art student. This is just what you do.”

“Who said I have the hots for him?” Otabek said, half-heartedly. He knew JJ would see right through him.

Sure enough JJ just raised his eyebrows, not even dignifying Otabek’s defense with a response.

“Whatever, just don’t, okay?” Otabek sighed.

“Fine, fine.”

\------

It wasn’t until that Friday that JJ beckoned him over once the morning rush had died down.

“Guess who came in yesterday while you were in class?”

Otabek rolled his eyes.

“I gave him your drawing. He really liked it.” JJ smirked. “He  _ begged _ me to tell him who’d drawn it. He threatened to break into our back room and steal the security footage from the day he came in wearing that outfit to figure it out.”

“Do you have security cameras here?”

“Pfft, no!” JJ laughed. “It’s a coffee shop, not a jeweler.”

Otabek chuckled. Before returning to his table, though, he hesitated, shifting his weight from heel to toe and back. “He really liked it?”

“Yeah. He said he’s going to keep coming back here until he finds out who drew it.”

“Ugh,” Otabek grimaced, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Maybe he hated it. Maybe he was offended by how I made him look or something.”

“Really, Otabek?” JJ rolled his eyes and turned around to wipe down the counter, leaving Otabek to get back to his coffee.

\------

Sure enough, the subject of Otabek’s drawing came into the cafe during the lunch rush, stalking to the counter in his purple Converse, another pair of ripped jeans, and a black hoodie with a snarling tiger on the front.

Otabek watched out of the corner of his eye, attempting to be discreet. The blonde was glaring at JJ with a curled lip while he ordered. JJ just laughed.

When he turned from the counter, presumably to find a seat, Otabek hurriedly returned his focus to his laptop, until a shadow fell over the table.

“Is this seat taken?” His voice was deep but light, and he had an accent. “There isn’t space anywhere else.”

“Go right ahead,” Otabek responded casually (he hoped).

The man shifted his weight from one foot to another. “Actually, could I take your seat?”

“What? Why?” Otabek asked, brow furrowing.

“I want to be able to see the whole cafe.”

_ He’s trying to figure out who did the drawing,  _ Otabek realized. So much for taking out his sketchbook this afternoon.

Otabek rose from his seat and took the chair across. The blonde man sat down, his legs sprawling out to the side of the table, ankles crossed. He scanned the cafe with narrowed eyes, lips pursed tightly together.

“Here you go, Yurio!”

Yuuri set a latte down on the table.

“Don’t talk to me until you tell me what I want to know, Katsudon. I don’t want to hear it.”

_ Pet names,  _ Otabek thought, jealousy flaring to life in his gut again, only this time, he wasn’t sure who it was aimed at.

“I told you, I can’t tell you,” Yuuri said with a kind smile. “Just appreciate the gesture! It’s nice to have a secret admirer.”

“I have plenty of secret admirers,” he grumbled.

Yuuri just laughed, retreating back to his post behind the espresso machines.

Otabek cleared his throat, heart pounding. Why did he feel so nervous? “How do you know Yuuri?”

“The moron is dating my idiot cousin. They met in Japan this summer or something. I don’t know. They’re gross.”

“You’re Viktor’s cousin?” He must be from Russia too, which would explain the accent.

“You know him?” he looked up at Otabek curiously.

“Not personally, but he’s pretty well regarded in my department at school,” Otabek responded, but then immediately fell silent. Now he would know that Otabek was an art student. He was going to figure it out.

“Oh, are you a photographer? Do you know some of the other artists in the area?” He pulled out his phone and started swiping through it. “Maybe you could help me figure out who drew this.”

He shoved his phone across the table so Otabek could see. Sure enough, Otabek’s drawing was on the screen. In fact, it was posted to Instagram, with the caption  _ #mysteryartist #helpmefindhim. _ Upon closer inspection, Otabek realized that he’d even made it his profile picture. The drawing had over one thousand likes, and his account had over two hundred thousand followers.

“Oh, umm, I’m not sure…” Otabek trailed off, voice wavering, sure that he was blushing furiously. He neglected to correct the other man’s assumption that he was a photographer.

He took his phone back and shoved it in his pocket, returning to his task of surveying the other customers at the coffee shop.

“That annoying cashier JJ said that the guy who drew it comes here all the time, like he’s a regular or whatever. He didn’t even notice that he told me it was a dude, though. Moron.”

Otabek didn’t respond, unsure if the blonde was speaking to him or just thinking aloud.

“I’m Yuri, by the way. Not Yurio. Viktor and Katsudon call me that because they’re assholes.”   
  


“Oh, okay,” Otabek said, and when Yuri raised his eyebrows in question he added, “I’m Otabek.”

“Cool.”

They fell into something like a companionable silence.

Unable to take out his sketchbook, and now sitting with his back to the rest of the people in the cafe anyway, Otabek instead pulled out his history textbook. Yuri sat quietly across from him for the rest of the day, people watching with great intent.

At closing, Yuuri came over with a few leftover pastries for them.

“Do you two know each other?” he asked, and Otabek glanced up in surprised, before smothering a grin. Yuuri knew that they didn’t know each other, but he was playing dumb to protect Otabek’s identity. It was shit like this that made Otabek develop his silly crush in the first place.

“No, stupid, we just met,” Yuri said. “Which reminds me, here!”

Yuri shoved his phone into Otabek’s hands again.

“Give me your number, in case you figure out who drew that thing I showed you.”

“O-okay,” Otabek said, mentally chastising himself for stuttering. He typed his information in, and Yuri texted him his name so that he could add him to his phone, too.

They walked out of the shop together and coincidentally headed in the same direction. Otabek stopped at the corner where his motorcycle was parked.

“You drive a motorcycle?!” Yuri asked, jaw dropped and eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Otabek responded, unsure of what else to say.

“That’s so cool! I’ve never been on one before…”

Otabek had a feeling that he was supposed to take that as a hint. With the heat creeping up his neck to his cheeks, he asked, “Do you want to ride sometime? I don’t have an extra helmet with me now, but I have one at my apartment.”

“Dude, definitely,” Yuri said. “I’ll text you sometime.”

“O-okay,” Otabek stuttered again.

Yuri waved and then continued walking. Otabek let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

\------

Yuri never texted him, and Otabek wasn’t sure what he could say to strike up a conversation. Instead, they ran into one another at a party the next night, thrown by an upperclassman in his department.

“Are you here with Viktor?” Otabek asked, leaning up against the wall next to Yuri.

Yuri smiled widely when he saw who had sidled up to him, making something in Otabek’s abdomen go  _ swoop _ .

“No, I just saw the Facebook invite on his laptop the other day,” he whispered conspiratorially. “We live together, which sucks, but my parents wouldn’t let me move to New York until Viktor offered to fucking babysit me or whatever.”

“Did you come here for college?” Otabek asked.

“No, I’m only 17,” Yuri said. “Don’t tell Dominic. I showed him my fake so he would let me in. I moved here to get an agent. I’m a model. I was kind of big in Russia, but I want to break into the international scene.”

_ A fucking model,  _ Otabek thought, _ That’s why he had so many followers on Instagram. Why does he like this drawing so much when he probably has people drawing and photographing him all the damn time? _

“That’s… cool.”

Yuri scoffed. “You don’t have to lie. You have a motorcycle. You probably think I’m so lame.”

“No!” Otabek said, a bit too quickly and loudly, but thankfully Yuri didn’t seem to notice. “You’re definitely cool.” Yuri was wearing a striped sequined tunic over leggings and black boots with a small heel. Otabek didn’t think anyone else he knew could pull off an ensemble like that, but Yuri looked both sexy and natural.  _ I think he’s sexy,  _ he admitted to himself, chugging a good portion of his beer. “So… what do you mean by Viktor babysitting you?”

“My grandpa wouldn’t let me come to New York by myself, so Viktor offered to let me stay with him, but obviously he can’t just be a decent fucking person, so instead he blackmailed me, and now I have to be the subject of his stupid fucking senior project. It’s so annoying.”

“I thought Viktor was focusing on sports photography?”

“Apparently he wants to do fashion concept stuff now,” Yuri said with a shrug. Rolling his eyes, he added, “He says he got bored. Wanted to do something unpredictable or surprised people or whatever.” Knocking back the rest of his beer, he said, “I’m going to get another, you?”

Otabek nodded, and they headed to the kitchen for more. When they made it back to the living room, they collapsed onto a couch. Before he knew it, they were another two beers in, and Yuri was draped across the couch with his legs flung over Otabek’s lap. Otabek was too tipsy to feel embarrassed about it, and the flush on Yuri’s cheeks made him smile.

“I should get up,” Yuri said eventually, shifting to plant his feet on the floor. “I came here on a mission. I need to find this artist I was telling you about.”

As a reminder, Yuri shoved his phone under Otabek’s nose once again. The drawing was now his lock screen.

Otabek felt his heart speed up in panic. This apartment was full of his peers who would probably recognize his art style.

“No, Yuri, hang out with me, I like chilling with you,” he blurted, grabbing Yuri’s hand, and then flinched. That was probably even more embarrassing than if Yuri were to find out that he was the mystery artist. Yet Yuri’s blush seemed to deepen, and he sunk back onto the couch, this time sitting upright but close to Otabek’s side. He didn’t let go of his hand.

“What artist, Yurio?” They both turned their heads to see Viktor leaning over the back of the couch. “What are you doing here, anyway? I’m going to tell Dom to kick you out.”

“Do it, you won’t.” Yuri scowled.

Viktor just laughed, plucking the can of beer from Yuri’s hand.

“Hey! Give that back, asshole!”

“I’ll give it back if you tell me what you’re talking about,” Viktor said, dangling the beer in front of Yuri’s face. “I just want to be included in your life.”

“Ugh, fine! I’m trying to find the guy who drew my Instagram profile picture. JJ and Katsudon won’t tell me who did it.”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, since you blocked me on Instagram, remember?” Viktor pouted.

Yuri handed his phone to Viktor, who scrutinized the drawing briefly before his eyes lit up.

“How do you not know? It’s Otabek!” Viktor clapped Otabek on the shoulder as if he’d just done him a favor.

“What?!” Yuri shouted, his eyes darting back and forth between Otabek and Viktor. “But Otabek’s a photographer…”   
  


“No, he’s not!”

Otabek dropped his head into his hands, stomach sinking. Why hadn’t he just told the truth?

“Have I done something wrong?” Viktor asked in confusion.

Yuri didn’t respond. He was just staring at Otabek now, nostrils flared.

“How do you even know my art style? We’ve never had class together,” Otabek asked Viktor.

“I make it my business to know all of the talented artists in the department,” Viktor said. “Besides, Yuuri told me that you’ve been working on your figures all summer at the coffee shop!”

Yuri stood abruptly and left.

\------

Otabek texted Yuri an apology and received no response. Yuri didn’t come to the coffee shop that week.

A few days later, Viktor came in and sat across from Otabek.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t mean to out you. But Yuri’s been pissed for days. I think he likes you. I’m not good with people being upset or, like, crying in front of me, but I think if you just take him on a date or something, maybe that would make it better.”

“A date?”

Viktor shrugged again. “You like him, don’t you? That drawing… you really captured him. And he sensed that, that’s why he liked it so much. You don’t just draw a stranger like that if there isn’t something more there.”

Otabek remained silent.

“Well, here’s our address, if you want to stop by sometime,” Viktor said, scribbling on a napkin. “He’ll probably throw a fit, but he’ll come around. He’s still upset because he likes you, but his ego is preventing him from accepting the fact that you lied to him.”

With that, Viktor left him.

\------

_ Come outside. _

It had been another week of radio silence, but Otabek decided that he had nothing to lose, so he parked his motorcycle in front of Viktor and Yuri’s apartment building, texted Yuri, and hoped that he’d deign to come down.

His heart leapt when ellipses appeared. Yuri was typing… it disappeared. It appeared for another brief moment before disappearing again.

With a sigh, he prepared to hop back on his bike, but then the door opened and Yuri stepped outside and started toward him. He paused when his eyes landed on the motorcycle, eyes going wide in wonder and, Otabek sensed, excitement.

Otabek tossed him the extra helmet in lieu of a greeting.

Silently shoving it on and strapping it around his chin, Yuri closed the distance between them, and then they took off.

\------

They ended up at the High Line, wandering until they found a comfortable spot to lean against the railing and look over the Hudson River.

Neither of them had said a word yet.

They watched as the sun began to set.

“I’m sorry I lied,” Otabek said at last, keeping his gaze forward, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

“You didn’t lie, really,” Yuri said, sighing, and turning to face Otabek. It felt like a challenge to return the favor. “I never asked if it was you. I just assumed you wouldn’t have drawn it.”

An awkward silence fell between them.

“Not that I didn’t think you were talented!” Yuri backpedaled suddenly, realizing how his statement may have been perceived. “I just… never thought someone as cool as you would take an interest in drawing me.”

“Why not?” asked Otabek.  _ Why do you think I’m cool? _ was what he really wanted to know.

“I’m just some basic-ass model,” Yuri said. “I pose for, like, stupid store catalogues.”

“Well… why did you like the drawing so much? I’m just an art student, and I’m not even that good at figure drawing,” Otabek countered.

Yuri thought for a moment, even pulling out his phone to look at the drawing again. It was still his lock screen. “I guess… it’s because you drew me in  _ my  _ clothes, like, in my element. You drew  _ me,  _ not the dumbass clothes that need to fly off the shelves or hangers or whatever.”

Otabek finally turned to face him, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the railing. “I like your clothes, Yuri,” he admitted, feeling confident all of a sudden. “I like your style.”

Yuri stepped closer. Now they were only a foot away. “Is this a date?” he asked.

Otabek felt his newfound confidence evaporate in a single moment. Yuri must have detected his anxiety, because he smirked.

“I… I don’t know.” Otabek hesitated. “Do you want it to be?”

“Do you?” Yuri challenged.

“Yeah,” he breathed, after a moment of summoning his nerve.

“Good,” Yuri said, before he closed the space between them and pulled Otabek into a kiss.

\------

“Yuuri! Come look at this photo I took!”

Yuuri got up from his desk and found Viktor on the couch, hunched over his laptop. The picture was of a couple kissing, silhouetted against a dramatic sunset over the river.

“What do you think?” Viktor asked.

“It’s beautiful. The colors are so vivid,” Yuuri said, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s shoulders from behind.

“Maybe I should be a nature photographer!” Viktor exclaimed.

“You need to stop changing your focus, you’re giving everyone whiplash.”

“Yuuriiii, why are you so mean to me?”

“I’m still mad at you!” Yuuri said. “You gave away Otabek’s secret, and he really didn’t want anyone to know.”

“But I didn’t  _ know _ that!” Viktor argued. “Besides, this  _ is  _ Otabek. And Yuri.”

“What?!” Yuuri leaned in closer, examining the silhouette. “Ooooh… wait, how did you get this picture?!”

“I followed them. Yuri’s only seventeen! I promised to keep an eye on him!”

_ “VIKTOR!” _


End file.
